Bloody Bits and Peices
by Aislin30a
Summary: Bits and pieces from the lives and minds of the 11th division. An ongoing collection of drabbles. Multiple genres. Rating may change as chapters are added. Slash probable.
1. They fight

They really need 11th division as a select character option... Anyway, this is where I'm going to store all my Bleach drabbles the vast majority of which will likely be about the 11th division because they're the only ones I ever seem to write about. : ) There will be multiple generes and ratings.

Disclaimer: Sadly, Bleach and it's characters don't belong to me. They are the creations of Tite Kubo.

Rating: K+ to be safe as death is mentioned.

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Watching Zaraki fight is like watching a wrecking ball being used to hammer a nail into a wall. The nail defiantly goes into the wall; at least, you assume it has as most of the wall seems to have disappeared. The idea of Zaraki loosing is like the idea of tracing your finger around the outside edge of a circuit only to find that it's also the inside edge. It makes your brain hurt. Zaraki wins because loosing isn't a conceivable option.

Ikkaku fights chaotically. Like a typhoon his attacks rain destruction at random, powerful, intense, but without focus. _An opponent without discipline is easily defeated._ But as you pull away from the immediate and into the whole it becomes clear that all movement, all destructive force, spirals around a central core. _Order within chaos._ Ikkaku wins because by the time his opponents realize this it's usually too late.

Yumichika is flexible, agile, and above all, graceful. When he finds a worthy opponent (not often as Ikkaku likes to steal all the best ones) Yumichika doesn't so much fight as dance. His movements flow like water, one into the other without beginning or end. Yumichika loves beauty and so everything he does must be beautiful. Yumichika wins because his opponents fail to realize that beauty can be deadly.

Yachiru is powerful and fast as lightening but that's not why she wins. Yachiru wins because it's such a shock when a little girl with cotton-candy hair comes flying out of nowhere and lops your head off.

It's that last bit really, no one ever recovers.

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	2. Night at the Inn

Disclaimer: Bleach and characters are the property of Tite Kubo.

Rating: K+

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The first time Ikkaku kissed Yumichika it was by accident. In fact, it had been Yumichika who had kissed him.

Their little gang had stopped at an inn for the night. Having fought some bandits earlier that day (not because they were good Samaritans, they weren't, but because jumping out of a bush and yelling "your money or your life!" at Zaraki Kenpachi gets filed as a request for assisted suicide and is handled as such) they could afford it. Besides, Yumichika had been complaining for days about needing a decent bath and, unfortunately, Yachiru liked him too much to kill off.

Ikkaku had spent the early night looking for fights in the local bars. All he'd gotten were drunken brawls and as the night went on he had only gotten more and more irritated. Eventually he'd gotten fed up and decided to head back earlier than he'd intended, though still late enough for most of the lights at the inn to be extinguished. He'd just slid the door shut to the room he was sharing with Yumichika when soft hands took hold of his face, guiding toward a pair of lips that began moving passionately against his own.

He found out later, after a shouting match and a black eye (his), that Yumichika had mistaken him for a potential fling he'd met in the common room. He'd invited the man to come up that night thinking Ikkaku wouldn't be back until much later.

Ikkaku wasn't amused. Neither was Yumichika. Zaraki thought it was funny as hell.

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	3. Lucky

Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are the property of Tite Kubo. Some people have all the luck. ;)

Rating: K+ (I refuse to believe that anything involving the 11th division could possibly be rated K)

Lucky

* * *

-

The Luck-Luck dance started out as a fool-proof way of pissing Yumichika off.

Their wanderings through Rukongai hadn't been all fun and games, or blood and mayhem as the case may be. Meals had to be made, dishes cleaned, and clothes washed. By mutual decision (after Yumichika refused to bandage Ikkaku's wounds for a week in retaliation) these chores were to be assigned to the loser of a small contest. They had started out with Rock, Paper, Scissors which only served to escalate the problem as new objects were added to ensure a win on their respective parts (Katana which loses to Rock but beats Paper and Scissors, Fan which beats Katana and Paper but loses to Scissors and Rock, Sake which beats Fan, Paper and Rock but loses to Katana and Scissors, etc). Eventually they abandoned this method when Yumichika invented Fist which wins against everything by knocking Ikkaku out cold.

They tried riddles and guessing games after that. It worked fairly well. Until Ikkaku insisted that by remaining silent he hadn't been outwitted because he'd never, in fact, attempted to answer. This resulted in a small feud which started with Yumichika bringing back Rock, Paper, Fist for the evening and ended with Ikkaku pinning him against a wall followed by an embarrassing misunderstanding with the man they'd 'convinced' to let them use his spare room for the night.

They eventually settled on throwing dice. They changed the game every night as this, combined with the inherent randomness of dice, would keep the contest fair. The outcome depended largely on luck. Something Ikkaku seemed to have quite a bit more of than Yumichika who, despite his suspicions, couldn't figure out how Ikkaku could possibly be cheating. His obvious irritation and careful observation of his friend's every move was a constant source of amusement for Ikkaku who never missed an opportunity to tease him about it. Eventually Yumichika accused him flat out of cheating and demanded Ikkaku confess how he was doing it. Ikkaku replied with a slightly drunken "It's because I'm lucky!" followed by an early version of the luck-luck dance and an empty sake bottle being broken across his head.

Yumichika's initial reaction didn't deter Ikakku from perfecting and using his new dance at every opportunity. Much to Yumichika's annoyance, and later Ichigo and Ganju's confusion.

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end


	4. Two Worlds

I Live! Man, I haven't updated in forever... This has actually been done for a while, I just never posted it. So here it is! Hopefully I'll have more to come soon. ;)

**Two Worlds**

Bleach and all it's characters belong to Tite Kubo.

This section rated K

* * *

**Two Worlds**

Yachiru's world is divided into two parts: the part where she is Fukutaichou, and the part where she's Yachiru.

In Fukutaichou's world she can walk all over her subordinates, often quite literally. She gives orders to Funny-brows and Cue-ball and the response is "Yes, Ma'am!". She helps with training and enforces discipline. She leads Hollow raids and kills her fair share. She's a sugar loaded, hyper, pink ball of terror.

Yachiru's world is a much more private place. It exists mainly in the private quarters and Ken-chan's office. When she gives orders the response is usually something like: "Candy? Not until you clean your plate and, while entertaining, piling your vegetables on Ikkaku's head doesn't count" or "Nice try, runt". Funny-brows becomes Nee-chan (though Yachiru hasn't called him that since he cut his hair) who teaches her kanji, washes her face and brushes her hair. Cue-ball becomes Ikki-miki (a nick-name for which Yumichika will never be forgiven) who lets her sleep in his lap and plays games with her. Yachiru has tea-parties with Yumichika, draws pictures and asks Ikkaku anything that pops into her head because it's so much fun to accuse him of making up the answers. And if she asks just right (Ken-chan! Ken-chan! Ken-chan! Ken-chan! Keeen-Chaaaaaan!) she gets a story before bed complete with all the voices.

And while she's still a sugar loaded, hyper, pink ball of terror, she's _their's._ And that makes all the difference.

* * *

End

Someday the consept presented in this drabble may become an actual fic. I've got an idea for it, but it's not really filled out yet.


	5. Beneath the Lid

**Beneath the Lid **

I'm ridiculously happy with this piece. I have a serious soft spot for Yumichika. And I wanted to write something that shows his deeper side.

Bleach is the brain child of Tite Kubo. I own nothing except the laptop I typed this on.

Rating: T for mentioned themes and language (because I said so)

* * *

**Beneath the Lid **

Yumichika has, carefully hidden amongst the smooth silks, the painted screens, the polished woods and gleaming lacquers of the one space in the division compounds that is uniquely his, a small wooden box. It's remarkable, in this space of artful elegance, for its plainness. The wood is neither polished nor rare. There is no lacquered design, no jade or mother of pearl inlay. It has no carved decoration, no fanciful legs to rest on, no intricate hinges or lock. It's simply a plain but well crafted wooden box, each part fitting perfectly against the other, durable and functional. It contains Yumichika's most precious possessions.

Ikkaku knows about it, he'd constructed it in the first place, back in the early days of their partnership when he'd first discovered his aptitude for wood work. Even so, he's never seen what's inside. He isn't interested anyway. Though if asked he'd probably say that it's where Yumichika keeps all the pretty little gifts he's gotten from past admirers.

Yachiru's made it her mission in life (along with eating enough candy to make her sick, something she's heard of but has yet to experience) to find it and bust it open. Her reasoning being: Funny-brows likes pretty things, many pretty things are also shiny, whatever's in the box must be very pretty, and therefore also very shiny. Yachiru _likes_ shiny. This is all the reason she needs.

Zaraki makes a point of not speculating about the poof's personal life. EVER.

Given that, he'd probably be just as surprised as the other two if they were ever to discover what was really inside Yumichika's plain wooden box. The contents aren't all that shiny or expensive and none of it was given in an attempt to win his affections. Most of it isn't even all that pretty. They might remember some of what they would see, though it's more likely they wouldn't as none of it was very important at the time.

Zaraki _might_ remember a scrap of cloth, carefully rolled to prevent wrinkles, brightly colored and just a little gaudy. He might remember the day a bald stranger, high on blood lust, challenged him and on being defeated demanded to die (and the companion who watched, seemingly calm and indifferent but with eyes too intent).

Ikkaku _might_ remember the crude wooden comb propped up in the back, carved after weeks of listening to his friend complain about how his long hair would tangle and get in his eyes during a fight. Its shape is rough and undecorated except for a crudely carved flower (really only lines dug into the wood), a response to Yumichika's request for something prettier. If Ikkaku remembered it at all he might notice that the wood is a good deal smoother than it was after he finished the last cut on the _fucking_ flower, as if polished by soft hands after many years of handling.

Yachiru _might_ remember a brittle twig of small brown flowers, once a brilliant red, tucked against a seem in the lid. She might see in her mind's eye an expansive field with plants matted down by blood and gore. She might recall the feel of their soft peddles as she ripped them from the ground so that Yumichika's hair would match the shiny, sticky red across his face and kimono which didn't show up against his dark strands.

Zaraki _might_ remember the little brass bell, bent and twisted, no longer able to ring. He might recall his daily struggle to affix it on his topmost spike interrupted as Soul Society's youngest shinigami, hyper from too many candies, stole it from his grasp. He might remember chasing his top officers, unwilling participants in Yachiru's game of keep-away, through buildings and streets and quite a few walls. Laughing maniacally all the way, only to find once he'd caught them that their combined reiatsu had crushed it beyond repair.

Yachiru _might_ remember a bit of rag unraveling near the bottom (perhaps if she held it to her cheek and closed her eyes), stained by travel and dirt, all that's left of a warm blanket. She might remember the smell of wood and smoke, the feel of dirt beneath her bare feet. She might recall her first glimpse of Seireitei's walls, white as the snow nearly melted clean away, from beneath its coarse cloth.

Ikkaku _might_ _very well_ remember the most recent addition, an onigiri wrapper from the living world. The events that followed the rooftop meal of which only the wrapper remains are certainly vivid in his memory. The high of the fight, the thrill of using his Bankai, of finally fighting to his very limit, of looking death in the face are all easily recalled and savored. And one hazy memory resting gently below, of a smile and lavender eyes, quiet relief.

Yumichika remembers it all very well. And so, every so often he opens the box. Running his fingers over these items and others he reminisces and smiles softly. He _might_ take that carefully rolled scrap of kimono and, laying it out flat, think on all those moments his life changed before his eyes. He _might_ run the wooden comb through his hair, now short, and remember Ikkaku's eyes, fierce and full of fire. He _might_ hold the flowers carefully, far too fragile to weave into his hair now, or the twisted bell which sounds so flat and ugly with the metal bent and laugh quietly to himself. He _might_ hold the rag to his face, breathing deeply, and hum old lullabies stained with blood.

But _now_ he holds the onigiri wrapper tight and trembles where no one can see him.

* * *

End.

I hope you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


	6. Wooden Comb

So this has been sitting in my writing folder for ages and ages and it isn't doing anyone any good in there so I'm posting it in here. Enjoy. :)

Rating: K+ or T (does "shit" still count as a swear word there days?)

* * *

**Wooden Comb**

Ikkaku was good with tools.

It had come in handy over the years, especially back when they were traveling. He considered it his main contribution to their small group back then, his ability to build with his hands, to _create_. It was an excuse to justify following Zaraki across the landscape from fight to fight, because why should Zaraki allow him to cut in on his fun if he couldn't be useful? So he built a secure sling of wood and cloth to carry Yachiru in when she was sleeping or ill or just too tired to hold onto Zaraki's shoulder anymore. It kept his hands free and could fold small when not being used. He built light packs to keep their previsions dry and clean, strong enough to keep their shape even while being abused in a sudden scuffle. He built fires that burned hot but virtually smokeless. He created blacksmith puzzles from carved wood and bone, bits of cloth and metal and anything else on hand to keep Yachiru occupied during downtime and out of everyone's hair (which in itself won him a permanent place in their little band).

His handiwork continued after becoming a shinigami. But most of his work was on a larger scale now. After becoming particularly irritated at a group of new recruits, who were pompous and deluded in their pride at being installed into the strongest division, Ikkaku (feeling he should teach them their place) spent a few days working with wood, metal, rope and various covert items kept well hidden.

The result was that the old obstacle course was now riddled with traps and surprises for the unsuspecting trainee. Sending the recruits through had the division roaring with laughter for days. His creation was also a favorite of Yachiru's, and so, was constantly in need of repair.

He had just finished with his latest round of fixes and modifications; with a few nasty surprises added to traumatize the next wave of recruits (he thought the taffy gun at the end was a nice touch. You couldn't let the rare smart-ass think too much of themselves after all and being chased around Seireitei by their child fukutaichou was the perfect remedy to an inflated ego), and was relaxing in the shade, kosode hanging around his waist.

He'd kept spare pieces of wood with good grain stashed off to the side while he worked and now he choose a piece at random to fiddle with. This was what he enjoyed the most, just picking up a chunk of wood and carving away at it to see what shape was inside. It was relaxing and he didn't have to think, just let the grain tell him what he was going to make.

Shortly after a screen across the training grounds slid open and Yumichika strolled out, a hand held up to shade his eyes as they adjusted to the light. Yachiru skipped out after him, zanpakutou bouncing on its wheels. He'd have to repair the axle soon, if she kept treating it like that. The zanpakutou was abandoned without thought when she spotted the obstacle course, all its pieces reassembled and back in place. In an instant she was bounding over and diving in, intent on discovering all the fun new traps and jags, shouting excitedly.

"I hope there's nothing _too_ interesting in there," Yumichika called, smiling slyly. "There's a fukutaichou function of some sort tonight and I don't want to have to give her another bath. It makes my fingers wrinkly."

"She'll be fine," he replied, smirking. "There's nothing in there she can't handle."

Lavender eyes sparkled before turning their gaze back to the energetic girl he'd spent ages watching over. That had been Yumichika's useful purpose in their days wandering the districts of Rukongai. Being, as Zaraki put it, a "fruity bastard" he'd been assigned the domestic responsibilities. These included looking after Yachiru, feeding her, washing her, getting her to sleep, keeping her from running into the middle of fights. Surprisingly, she'd taken to him fairly well and even now she still listened to him to an extent. Ikkaku was sure that if anyone else (except Zaraki-taichou) tried to get her to wash her hands or eat her vegetables or (he shuddered to think) insist she didn't eat candy before meals that they'd end up with her head slammed between their eyes.

Looking down again he noticed that he'd unconsciously been shaving his chunk of wood into the shape of an ornamental comb. And, well, why not? The grain was suited to it and he was just messing around anyway. Really, now that he thought about it, he hadn't made anything delicate in ages; it would be a good way of practicing precision and technique. Especially the teeth which were so easy to break.

He'd only been working on this new shape for a few minutes when he felt another reiatsu enter the training grounds. Glancing up with his eyes only he recognized the fukutaichou of 9th division walking slowly but confidently toward Yumichika. He'd been wondering about that guy for a while now. Mainly how his friend had been able to beat him, by Taichou's remarks, so easily but had lost to that Shiba guy not too much earlier. Then again, Shiba had been one of Ichigo's party, hadn't he, so maybe it wasn't so strange that he'd lost. Still, for a 5th seat, even Yumichika, to beat a fukutaichou without even getting scuffed was definitely weird.

Dropping his knife in favor of a whittling blade Ikkaku continued to watch as the guy, Hisagi wasn't it, approached his friend. Yumichika was already turned to face his visitor and smiled lightly at the other's greeting, brushing a hand over one set of feathers and down his hair, replying in turn. As he continued to watch, Ikkaku couldn't help wondering what the conversation was about, why Hisagi had come in the first place. He watched as the idiot continued talking, looking like he felt a little more out of place every minute but persisting. Changing out for a smaller tool, he watched as Yumichika smiled flirtatiously, listening, then laughing, and damn it! What was he playing at with that idiot?

He started on the repetitive motion of carving out the teeth and thought in the back of his mind that in this mood he'd probably end up breaking one, then pushed the thought aside. Yumichika had turned and was watching Hisagi from the corner of his eyes, looking almost intrigued. The man's talking slowed and he paused a moment before taking something out of his sleeve and handing it toward Yumichika. Who laughed lightly and waved his hand as if he couldn't possibly accept the paper wrapped package, but really he'd never been able to refuse a gift. The paper fell away and there was the glow of something white and fragile shining in the sun and he saw Yumichika hesitate and _blush_.

Which was when he noticed the biting pain in his hand. Looking down, Ikkaku saw his fist wrapped tightly around the wood comb and uncurled his hand. It was rough and hardly half finished. The teeth were a little misshaped and too thick and on the handle was the half-formed shape of a bird with a flowing tail flying against a background of clouds. Turning it in his hands he wondered what the hell he'd been thinking.

Sighing he dropped the crude carving onto the pile of shavings he'd built up in creating it. He reached for his bag and began putting his tools away, each in its own pocket. He wasn't interested in seeing how Yumichika dealt with his new admirer.

"CANDYYYYYYYY!"

"SHIT!"

* * *

Yumichika was at a loss, not a usual occurrence in the slightest.

The afternoon had started out normally enough. He'd made sure Yachiru had eaten all of her lunch though it was obvious she was impatient to see if Ikkaku had finished with the course yet. He'd had her stay put while he looked over her Kanji practice from the night before and noted which still needed a little work. He'd waited for as long as he could without Yachiru becoming mutinous then announced that they might as well go see what Ikkaku was up to.

They'd found him sitting back on his haunches in the shade of a tree carving a small piece of wood, kosode falling around his waist. While Yachiru had immediately gone off to explore the newly completed obstacle course, Yumichika had exchanged some banter with his friend. He'd looked away after only a few words, not wanting to stare; Ikkaku really did have a beautifully toned physic.

Then Hisagi had come strolling in. Yumichika hadn't seen him, really, since they'd fought. Hadn't even thought of him in nearly as long. But he greeted him in his normal, flirtatious style because rudeness without reason was such an ugly thing and Hisagi was rather attractive in his way. And gradually he started to suspect where this conversation was going and waited, vaguely intrigued, to have his suspicions confirmed. And they had been confirmed in the form of a gift wrapped in paper which turned out to be a hair clip fashioned from mother-of-pearl. To keep his hair out of his face while he trained, Hisagi had said.

So, now he stood wondering what to say, feeling the heat in his cheeks and not liking that at all. He looked from the corner of his eyes, hoping to catch Ikkaku's attention so his friend would come over and make some rude comment about the idiocy of wearing something like that while fighting, saving him from having to blatantly refuse the gift as it was intended. But Ikkaku wasn't looking up. He was looking closely at something in his hands and seeming disappointed. Then he dropped whatever he had been examining to the ground.

"What do you think of it?" Yumichika looked up, startled, and tried to think quickly of a beautiful way to say he wasn't interested. After all, he'd beaten this man quite easily and his reaction to defeat hadn't been very graceful; he just wasn't intrigued by the 9th division fukutaichou anymore.

"Well, its lovely-" he started.

"CANDYYYYYYYY!"

"SHIT!"

Spinning around Yumichika saw Ikkaku leap up and hurtle over the obstacles separating him from their very pleased sounding fukutaichou. Using their outbursts as a good excuse to escape Hisagi's inquiry, he ran over to the tree Ikkaku had been sitting under to get a better look at what had happened. The sight that greeted him made him burst out laughing.

Yachiru hung from Ikkaku's fist, covered in what looked like glaring pink taffy, happily stuffing an entire hand into her mouth. Ikkaku stood with one arm outstretched, holding onto the small girl kicking her legs in pure, sugar induced joy and trying to shake off tendrils of the sticky candy from his other hand. Both activities made more difficult by the pink mess at his feet. The expression on his face making Yumichika double over in mirth.

Wiping a few stray tears from his eyes he caught a glimpse of a pile of wood shavings and found himself incredibly curious as to what Ikkaku had been looking at. Still laughing he reached out and took the largest piece off the pile. It turned out to be a half-finished carving, a decorative comb on closer inspection. Looking it over he saw that it was decorated with a bird of some kind flying against a cloudy backdrop. And he could tell (knowing a good bit about Ikkaku's methods having watched him work as often as possible, finding the contrast between his strength and the gentle motions of his hands as he carved to be breath taking) that had his friend been inclined to finish this piece it would have been more than lovely. He wondered idly why he had thrown it away.

His musings were cut short by the sound of Yachiru and Ikkaku's arguing voices coming closer. Standing up he watched the two approach and smiled ruefully. Ikkaku's bare chest had streaks of taffy running across it from trying to keep a hold of their fukutaichou. Ikkaku stopped a few feet away with a grunted curse as Yachiru started to gnaw at his head in retaliation, shifting his grip to try and pry her off. And because Yumichika was in such good mood and the sight of Ikkaku's chest covered in the sticky candy was just too good to pass up, he extended his hand and ran one finger across it. Bringing it up to his mouth he licked the sweat substance off.

"Didn't I tell you," he purred looking up into Ikkaku's startled expression "that I didn't want to bathe her again?"

* * *

And Hisagi watched forgotten in the background as his gift was abandoned to the ground in favor of a half carved piece of wood held securely in hand. Realizing - as he saw the way Yumichika looked at the other man, despite how ridiculous the situation was - that he'd lost this battle before he'd even begun to fight it.

.

end


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